A night at the circus
by MaddieJV
Summary: A little "what if" one shot about Natasha spending an evening at a circus.
Natasha blinked her eyes slowly in the early morning sun as she looked up at the person standing over her. She bolted upright preparing for a fight when she realized the man was only asking her a question. It sounded foreign to her. The man above her was not speaking Russian.

"Who are you?" She asked accusingly in Russian. Then she remembered. She was on a train in America, not Russia. She made a mental switch to English and paused to listen to his questions.

"What's your name? Are you alone?" Natasha didn't answer but eyed him cautiously. "I'm the conductor. Can I help you find your seat?"

Natasha had ditched the Red Room, run away from Russia, stowed on a plane, and caught a train. Well, hopped in a luggage car on a passenger train, but it was all the same to her. She didn't need to be comfortable to get where she was going.

She paused. Where was she going? When she left she didn't really have a destination in mind. Just not Russia. She ignored his questions and asked her own.

"Where are we?" She glanced through the crack in the loading door off to her left as she asked.

"Just passing through Iowa now. Where are you headed?"

Natasha paused and looked between the conductor and the door.

"Here's good enough." She leapt past him and vaulted out the door.

Natasha found a dirt road and decided to follow it. She seemed to be in a pretty rural area and decided the road had to lead to whatever kind of civilization Iowa (where was that anyway?) had to offer. She didn't think about what kind of looks she would get from people driving by. If anyone stopped to ask her why a little kid was walking down the road alone she had was of silencing them.

After it seemed like she had been walking forever she saw a town starting to peek up above the hill. Inwardly sighing on relief, Natasha picked up her pace. She hadn't eaten more than the crackers she stole on the plane in two days.

She walked past two restaurants deciding that they would be too much work. To easy to get spotted and questioned by someone. Instead she opted for the grocery store. It was small but it would be easier for her to grab some sandwiches and sneak out. She was glad she was wearing a baggy jacket.

She ducked through the door and turned down the first empty aisle. She looked around at the sugary treats and wrinkled her nose. She'd never been one for candy. She didn't mind ginger snaps though. She grabbed a little box and stuffed it in her coat pocket. Next she wandered down a refrigerated foods aisle and snagged a couple sandwiches and added those to her stash. She grabbed an apple juice to top it all off and snuck back out of the store.

She hadn't been noticed by many people in town and didn't waste time wondering why. Instead she set about looking for a library where she could eat in peace. It was getting dark and she would need to find a place to hide out overnight.

She pulled one of the sandwiches out while she was walking and took a bite, glad to have some food in her stomach. Looking around as she ate she saw posters advertising a traveling circus.

"ONE WEEK ONLY. CATCH THE LION TAMER, THE JUGGLING BEARS, AND FOR A SPECIAL TREAT: THE AMAZING SWORDSMAN, Trick Shot, AND THEIR NEW PROTÉGÉ."

Natasha had never seen a circus before and figured now was as good a time as any. She was no longer following orders and had to answer only to herself. She was going to have some fun.

Ducking past the curtain, watchful of everyone around her, Natasha stood by the stands and peeked into the ring. The juggling bears had just left and a pair of adults and a kid were taking the ring. This must be that special show she read about on the poster, she figured.

The announcer called Swordsman and Trick Shot and the two adults bowed dramatically in turn. The kid stood behind them. He must be the protégé. Swordsman and Trick Shot took turns doing amazing feats. Throwing knives, shooting arrows, cutting up dummies.

After a while of that, they announced the kid behind them with a flourish. He stepped forward with a small bow and quiver and bowed tightly. Trick Shot picked up a bow and shot an arrow. The kid would copy the shot almost exactly and after a while Swordsman put a blindfold on the kid. He continued to copy Trick Shot's aim and hit the target with almost as much precision.

"Must be a trick," thought Natasha. No one outside of the Red Room had aim that good. Especially not a kid. She rolled her eyes as the show finished and the lion was brought on stage. She turned and walked out of the tent.

As she wandered in and out of tents she heard a whispered argument from around the corner of a small prop trailer. She snuck closer and tried to listen in, catching the tail end.

"-do better! We took you in when you had no one. Now you do what we say." There was a resounding smack and the sound of feet walking away. Natasha peeked around the corner and saw Swordsman stalking away from the kid. The kid meanwhile hung his head slightly trying to appear strong. And to pretend the new bruise on his cheek wasn't there. He was still holding his bow and arrows.

Natasha waited for the Swordsman to be out of sight before she approached. She walked quietly so she was only a foot away from the boy when he looked up and saw her. He looked startled and cautious but he didn't run.

"Hi." Natasha ventured.

The boy continued to stare, confused.

"How did you fake those shots back there? They almost looked real." She tried again.

Looking defensive and almost hurt, the boy finally spoke up. "They weren't faked!"

"Come on, no way a kid could make that shot. Aside from me, but I prefer guns to arrows."

A new look of confusion passed across the boy's face but instead of speaking he simply raised the bow and set an arrow on the string. "Pick a target," he challenged.

Natasha raised one red eyebrow and nodded, looking around for something suitable. Her eyes narrowed as she picked a target and pointed. "There. Hit that." She picked an old corner of paper still stuck to a staple on a tree. It was a small target a good distance away.

"Fine." He nodded. The calmly drew back the arrow and let it fly, hitting the scrap in the center. "There. See? Not fake." He was about to argue more when Natasha saw Trick Shot and the Swordsman arguing and walking toward them.

Natasha grabbed the boy's arm and pulled him into the nearby tent before the two men saw them.

"Hey! What are you-" Natasha clapped a hand over the boy's mouth and pointed in the direction of the argument outside until the men passed by. She glared at him then moved to sit on the ground. They were in a tent that didn't seem to be used much so she felt safe staying for at least a minute. The kid looked at Natasha gratefully. "Hey thanks. Why'd you do that?"

Natasha shrugged. "I don't like men who hit kids."

"You say that like you're not a kid, too." The boy argued as he sat across from her. Natasha shrugged again. "So what's your name, anyway? And why do you have that accent? And what did you mean you prefer guns?"

Natasha eyed him for a long while before deciding it was safe to tell him. "Natasha. I'm from Russia. And I meant that I prefer guns." She said, not really clarifying matters. She looked to him expectantly.

"Oh. Right. I'm Clinton Barton." He stick out his hand which Natasha gingerly accepted and shook.

"Nice to meet you Clint." She said.

"Oh, uh, it's Clinton. Not-" Clint caught sight of her glare and revised his statement. "Y'know, Clint is fine too." Natasha nodded.

"So how old are you? And why are you in a circus?" She asked.

"I'm eleven," Clint answered proudly. Natasha knew he was ignoring the rest of her question but decided not to press matters when she hears his stomach growl. She peeked longingly at the other sandwich in her pocket and decided she could always steal another. She pulled it out and handed it to him.

He paused and looked at her before taking it and unwrapping it. "Thanks," he said sheepishly. "Sho ho olt rr ou?" He asked through a mouth full of sandwich.

"Nine." She looked at him defensively. People always looked down on her when she told them how old she was.

Clint gulped down his sandwich and boggled at her. "You're nine and you shoot guns?! Awesome." He took another bite, nodding to himself.

Natasha found herself smiling. She decided she liked this boy, Clint. She pulled the box of cookies out of her coat and held them out to share.

"Thanks." Clint said again. He took a cookie and smiled as he ate it.

Outside Natasha could hear people calling for Clint and she saw his face fall.

"You don't like It here." She ventured almost accusingly.

Clint paused and gingerly put a hand to the bruise forming on his cheek. Anger flashed through Natasha's eyes and she stood quickly. Clint looked alarmed as Natasha held a hand out to him. "Come on." She said in the most determined voice Clint had ever heard from a child.

In a mix of curiosity, fear, and hope, he took her hand and stood. She led him to the other side of the tent and peeked out carefully. She didn't see anyone so she pulled Clint's hand and started running.

She ducked behind every bench, tent, and trailer between her and the exit, listening carefully for the sounds of Clint's trainers. It wasn't until they were almost out the gate when she heard their voices again, still calling for Clint.

They were getting angrier and Clint's eyes went wide with the fear of being caught. Natasha listed for their direction and picked up a rock. Waiting until the last second she tossed the rock across the path to a trash can. Hearing the noise, Trick Shot and the Swordsman turned and ran in the wrong direction.

Natasha smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes and tugged Clint through the gate. She didn't stop running until they were on the steps of the library in town.

"We can hide in here as long as we need to. At least until the circus leaves town." Natasha panted, her hand still in Clint's.

Clint breathed hard, staring at Natasha. He started giggling. Natasha gave him an incredulous look. "What?" She asked.

"What are we going to do after that? Where are we going to go?" Clint asked, trying to get himself under control. Natasha paused.

Calmly she pulled an atlas off the shelf and held it out to Clint.

"Pick somewhere." She said coolly.

Clint stared at her for a minute before taking the atlas and opening to the index.

"Where's Budapest?" He asked. "That sounds cool."


End file.
